Before the Vows
by kelleher
Summary: AU; Post-ROTJ. After a too-close call for Han in The Battle of Coruscant, he and Leia share a quiet moment before their wedding.


**Author Note: This is my first fanfic, so go easy on me! I've always been unhappy with the way Han and Leia were played out in ROTJ, and really didn't love the way they got together in "The Courtship of Princess Leia." So I've recently been playing around with a longer story about how Coruscant fell not long after the events of ROTJ. This would be one of the last chapters of that story, but it's the first one I feel comfortable with putting out here. Thanks for reading.**

Han was doing his best to make himself look at least somewhat presentable, which was no mean feat when he was afraid he would drop from exhaustion the moment his last stimshot wore off and when all his own clothes were back on the Falcon, reeking of smoke and compressor fluid. The general's uniform he'd borrowed from Lando fit well enough, though, and he figured he owed it to Leia to show up in uniform. She was going to get a lot of flak in the near future, both for her parentage and for marrying him, and he would do everything in his power to minimize its impact on her. If that meant showing up at his wedding in an Alliance uniform just to remind everyone that he was a general and war hero instead of the small-time criminal he used to be, he was more than willing.

He snorted at that thought as he ran his hands through his hair. General and hero of the Alliance; that was crazy. Three standard ago he would have laughed at - or blasted a hole in - anyone who intimated that permanent outsider Han Solo would not only take sides, but swear an oath of loyalty to the Alliance in what he had always considered their doomed rebellion. Amazing how things changed. Amazing how one short, mouthy princess who was as quick with a stinging retort as she was with a blaster would spin his whole world on its ear. Amazing how deliriously happy he was that she did.

The source of his delirious happiness quietly entered the room behind him, dressed in the simple white gown she'd worn all day. He caught her reflection in his mirror and saw that she'd taken her hair down; it fell in cascading waves to her hips and a small smile played on her face as she watched him struggle to button the epaulets on his shoulder. But the smile he loved and the sensuousness of her hair weren't enough to make Han miss the haunted look in her brown eyes or the fact that her gown - which looked to him like the same one she'd worn when honoring him and the kid for their roles in bringing down the first Death Star - hung too loosely on her small frame. She'd looked thin and weary since their reunion on Tatooine, but now she looked fragile. That was a word he'd never thought he'd use when describing Leia Organa, and it worried him.

"Do I look that bad?" Leia asked as he continued to steal glances in the mirror.

"I think you're always beautiful."

"Thank you, but you're just being kind," she turned away from him and took a deep, shuddering breath, which caused Han's heart to jump into his throat. She wasn't having second thoughts about this, was she?

"What is it?" He walked over to her and squeezed her shoulder. She shook her head, still not meeting his gaze. "I don't want to push you into this if you're not sure-"

"No!" she whirled around quickly, frowning. "This is the only thing I am sure about." Her eyes softened as she caught the profound relief washing over his face. "I didn't mean to scare you. As if you could push me into anything anyway, nerf-herder."

"Who's scared, Your Worship?" Han parried as his heart returned to its normal place in his chest. "You'd have to be crazy not to marry me."

"Well, I'm not crazy yet, anyway. Give me a few years with you and then we'll see." Leia chuckled, brushing his bruised cheek with her finger. She wanted to go forward, to tell him what was on weighing on her so heavily, but she stopped herself and fell silent. Han knew her too well, though, to miss her hesitation. He cupped her face in his hands, looking down at her intently.

"Tell me, Leia."

"It's….when I thought I'd lost you, all the wounds that I'd stitched up so quickly...Alderaan, Bespin, Vader, even being chained half-naked to that Hutt filth..."

Han swallowed hard. He still hadn't quite forgiven himself for Leia's run-in with that gangster scum, and he doubted he ever would.

"...it felt like they all tore wide open. I'm not sure I can close them again."

"Sweetheart, you never gave your wounds any time to heal in the first place."

"There never was time."

"I'm not criticizing. There was no time, but maybe now there is."

"Yes. Now there might be time, and I don't know if I can face it all."

Han chuckled softly. "I know you better than that. You can face whatever you need to. But here's the thing, Leia: for as long as I live, you won't have to face any of it alone. Not ever."

A fresh round of tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't seem to get it together."

"It's okay." He gently wrapped his arms around her. "I got your back, Princess. Always."

She nodded, not trusting herself to keep her composure if she spoke, although she knew it wouldn't upset him if she did start sobbing in his arms for the second time today. In the long months after their separation on Bespin, she'd come to realize that more than anyone else on her life, even Luke, Han had never wanted her to be anything other than Leia. His bullheaded refusal to defer to her title or status, which had infuriated her for so long, ultimately allowed her to let go of that role when in his presence and open up to him as just another small person in a very large galaxy. When others expected her to be a model of decorum and possessor of every answer, Han mocked those very ideas, goading her into a very impolitic honesty until she didn't need to be goaded anymore. And his reaction to her awful revelation that her true father was the worst monster that the galaxy had ever produced...well, she should have expected by now that it wouldn't change his feelings about her one iota. That was Han's way. She would never find adequate words to tell him how grateful she was. Or how very much she loved him.

"So are we going to do this thing, Solo?"

Han leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. "Nothing would make me happier. I love you, You Highnessness."

Brushing away a stray tear, she smiled up at him. "I know."


End file.
